Writings By Watson
by Shelly Lane
Summary: I know Watson and Holmes aren't official Disney characters, but they do make a cameo. Also: Ratigan owns HUMAN size gems; Fidget wrecks a HUMAN shop; the flying machine gets stuck in a HUMAN clock; etc, so just for fun, I wrote about the movie from a human's point of view. (Holmes does err slightly, but of courses he's not going to believe in talking mice.) Forgive me, Doyle.
1. A Case of Missing Identity

**A Case of Missing Identity**

It was the eve of our good queen's Diamond Jubilee, and upon my arrival at Baker Street after fetching the evening paper, I discovered that Sherlock Holmes had seized the opportunity to regale me with the enchanting music of his violin. I never demurred hearing him play when he concentrated on producing melodious tunes, for he was indeed quite skilled; however, I found my patience sorely tried when he caused the violin to moan unearthly laments in an effort to assist his cognitive process.

Throughout the past several months, various museum guards and women of significant wealth had begged Holmes to accept cases concerning the disappearance of priceless gems. Very few delinquents had ever managed to outwit him; however, his success rate in locating missing items had diminished greatly. Holmes was perplexed, unable to deduce the motive for such theft or the identity of the robber.

The preceding week, he had located a suspect. However, when Holmes questioned the man, he had insisted that he had no gems or precious stones.

"Search my home, Detective," the gentleman had replied evenly. "I've no such things anywhere!"

Holmes had made a thorough search of every cranny in the house, yet he had been unable to discover anything of value.

"Have you observed an unusual quantity of rodents?" he had queried. "I perceived claw marks at the base of nearly every wall within your home."

The man shrugged. "Nothing too unusual, just a pack rat. It steals whatever it pleases, but unlike most pack rats, it doesn't leave anything in return."

Frowning, Holmes inspected the scratches with his magnifying glass. "Although I hardly claim to be an expert concerning rodents, I would judge the culprit to be of a different species than the one you describe. Furthermore, unless I'm very much in error, such rats are native only to North America." He continued to examine the marks on the wall. "Whatever species of rat may have invaded your home, I would advise you to eradicate the creatures at once. Judging from the size of the claws, at least one individual is nearly the size of a small cat. I would not care to speculate on the vast number of diseases you risk with an infestation of such vermin!"

"I've tried to get rid of them." Carefully reaching underneath his chair, the man produced a trap. "You see, Mr. Holmes, I've been setting traps for the rats, but I've never caught one. This particular trap contains nothing but a severed mouse head. I can't even find the rest of the body! I imagine the mouse got caught and one of the rats ate everything but the head, or else the rat saw the trap and placed a mouse head in it just to spite me!"

"Hardly," Holmes responded. "Certain species of rodents are known to be rather clever, yet none have the capabilities of scientific reasoning and logic. Have you considered purchasing a cat?"

"Not after the last one I took in! I found a stray cat and let her stay in my home, and I was a good owner. I gave her soft pillows, plenty of warm milk, some yarn to bat around, and everything else cats like, but after a few weeks of living with me, she had kittens. Taking care of one cat is no problem, but I wasn't about to raise a whole family of the creatures! When they were old enough, I managed to give the kittens to people who wanted them, but there was one runt that I was sure would starve, so I threw her out. When my wife left, she took the first cat with her. I haven't owned a pet since, but there is one stray that vexes me. When I first started seeing it, I was sure it was none other than the kitten I had abandoned, but surely such a coincidence was impossible! The kitten's ribs showed from hunger, and it always limped, as if something wounded its paws repeatedly. Now I still see the stray at times, but it's different now, blatantly well fed and pampered."

"You ought not to have turned out such a small creature into a vicinity occupied by large rats," answered Holmes. "Surely if you had given the manner considerable thought, you might have arrived at a more humane solution."

"Thanks for the lesson in ethics," the man scoffed. "Mr. Holmes, if you'll forgive my impertinence, isn't it about time you retired? Moriarty is dead, and you've been reduced to trying to arrest me on the charge that I stole gems, which I no longer have because a large rat took them from me. I'm sure that evidence will be enough to convict me in court! Why not be honest with yourself? You're losing your skill as an investigator!"

Memories of such cases passed through my mind until a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

Holmes paused his violin. "You may enter."

A portly gentleman in a dapper suit stepped into the room, politely removing his hat. He appeared to be slightly past thirty years of age, and although he managed to keep his composure rather well, he was clearly overwrought.

"Good evening, Professor," Holmes greeted.

"I was hoping you wouldn't know me," the man confessed. "I know that until recent years, you've had a great deal of trouble from another professor, and I wasn't sure you'd be willing to take my case if you knew my occupation."

"Don't be absurd! The detectives of Scotland Yard bear no resemblance to myself; thus I'm fully aware that not every professor behaves as the late Moriarty. I've read of you in the headlines of various newspapers, and unless I mistake your identity, you're an instructor at Oxford. Many of your students have made significant discoveries that advance the fields of science and medicine."

"You are correct, Mr. Holmes," our guest replied, "but I expected nothing less from one of your outstanding reputation."

Holmes motioned to the bottle on the table. "Perhaps you would care to have a drink as you present your case. It may ease your distress and clear your mind."

"That dirty rat stole my champagne!" He immediately looked ashamed of himself for his outburst. "I apologize, gentlemen. I fear I have had such peculiar events occur that I risk losing my wits."

"Do have a seat and expound on your quandary. I would typically dismiss a case involving the disappearance of liquor, but I observe you are no mere inebriate concerned with missing alcohol."

The professor nodded and sat down. "Mr. Holmes, were I not an educated man of science, I would believe my home to be haunted. During my days as a bachelor, I contented myself to reside in a small flat, yet when I found myself affianced to a young lady, I realized I would need a larger home in order to have enough room to raise any future children we may have. We found a charming residence, spacious yet elegant, and very reasonably priced, and we moved there the very day we were wed. The neighbors were quite amiable, and none of them behaved in any manner of suspicious nature."

Holmes gave a terse nod as he lit his pipe.

"On my wife's birthday last year, I bought her a gold ring encrusted with small rubies. It was a rather attractive piece of jewelry, sirs, and she was ever so careful not to lose it. Every night, she placed it on the nightstand that it might easily be within her reach the next morning. However, when she woke up one day, she discovered it was missing. We searched for weeks to no avail. I understand that unfortunate accidents sometimes occur despite our efforts to prevent them, gentlemen, so I believed the ring had been knocked onto the floor, but no matter how I searched for it, I was never able to locate the missing item."

"Were there other disappearances?"

"For Christmas, I was given a generous sum of gold coins as a holiday bonus. You may rest assured I intended to deposit the money into the bank at once, but I received the gift rather late in the afternoon, and the bank was closed the following day. I guarded the coins carefully, always carrying them with me by day and placing them under my pillow at night. When I finally arrived at the bank and opened the bag in which I had kept the coins, I found not a single piece of gold! Every last coin had been replaced by a small stone! That very day, my wife informed me that her pearl necklace, a wedding present from her grandmother, had also vanished."

"Am I to assume you heard no one at your windows or door?"

"Not a soul, Mr. Holmes. The police found no signs of forced entry, and my housekeeper never saw any visitors. She burst into tears when she was informed that she was a suspect. She kept begging the investigators to inspect her room or anywhere else in the house to prove her innocence, and I truly have no reason to doubt her claim that she had nothing to do with the robberies."

"Do continue."

"Yesterday morning one of my students informed me that he had made a discovery of invaluable significance that could improve the lives of citizens throughout the empire. I applaud those who find ways to advance science, medicine, or any other aspect that could prove beneficial to society, so I thought to reward him. I'm fully aware that alcohol is forbidden at universities, but I thought to present him with a gift of fine champagne that he and his friends might toast his success after they had returned home from classes."

"And now someone has taken the liberty of removing the bottle of champagne you intended to offer him?"

"I bought it yesterday evening and placed it next to a candlestick that had belonged to my mother, and when I returned home from work this afternoon, it was missing, along with the candlestick and the candle it had been holding. Both were on my dining room table."

Holmes nodded sagely. "Unless I err greatly, the culprit responsible for the missing items is the same fiend who removed various items from the Tower of London, the villain who has stolen numerous gems from affluent ladies and museums containing luxurious items of jewelry."

"Can you stop him before he steals half the valuables in my home?!"

"I shall do my utmost to assist you, Professor."


	2. The Hound of Baker Street

**The Hound of Baker Street**

When we arrived at the professor's home, we found it exactly as he had described. There were no signs of forced entry, and the housekeeper, who insisted upon her innocence, reported that there had been no guests that day. Having made a thorough investigation, Holmes found no evidence indicating who would have been responsible for such sporadic theft.

"Do you not find it most arcane, Doctor, that many incidents of such robberies occur in dwellings with a considerable amount of miniscule hollows in the walls?" he queried as we returned to Baker Street.

I shrugged. "I find nothing out of the ordinary about mouse holes, Holmes. Is there a building in all of England that can boast of never having been inhabited by some manner of rodent?"

"I fear even our flat provides residence to a few mice," he remarked. "I recall one evening when I had discarded a damaged violin string. To my astonishment, I observed a small creature near it after I had placed the string aside. At times, I would nearly swear this same rodent deliberately attempts to approach my feet; however, as a coherent man of science, I have no reason to suspect this mouse has purposely made any effort to observe my life. Such exploits are unique to human society and should not be attributed to any species of animal." Noticing that I had stopped walking, my companion turned to me. "Is anything the matter, my dear Watson?"

"Not at all," said I. "A bit of rest would no doubt prove beneficial, for I fear I've become so tired that I'm beginning to hear nonexistent sounds, merely a trick of the mind due to fatigue."

"If I may inquire, what sound did you fancy you heard?"

"Before the toll of Big Ben to announce the half hour, I mistakenly believed I heard the sound of a smaller bell, similar to a hand bell, but so faint it was barely audible."

Holmes pensively stroked his chin. "I hear naught but muffled squealing." He stood silently. "Judging from the purring I currently perceive, I would deduce a stray cat has managed to obtain its evening meal, no doubt one of the innumerable rodents inhabiting these alleys. I am rather curious to know whether or not this feline is the same that antagonized Toby, yet with all the feral cats of London, we shall never be certain."

I hardly envied Toby, a dog that had recently lived at Pinchin Lane with a man by the name of Sherman. As Holmes had begun borrowing Toby for cases with increasing frequency, Sherman had determined the most suitable course of action was to allow Toby to remain at Baker Street. Despite his lack of emotional display, I knew full well that the situation pleased Holmes immensely and that he had become rather fond of his new pet; however, he had once discovered scratches on the dog's nose and ears. Having deduced the abrasions to be the result of a confrontation with a cat, Holmes had tended the wounds, despite Toby's lack of cooperation.

"What a pity he doesn't get along well with cats!" Mrs. Hudson had commented. "I would love very much to have a cat to sit in my lap of an evening and follow me around as I work!" She smiled. "A nice cat who would make me smile by playing with yarn or rubbing against my ankles! I was thinking about getting one, but if it would cause problems for Toby…"

My thoughts were interrupted as we stepped through the door of our flat. Toby immediately began placing his paws on our knees as if inquiring where we had been and why he hadn't been invited. Holmes attempted to enjoy a pipe, but this action was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a basset hound on his lap as soon as he had gotten comfortable in his chair. Unable to smoke, he began stroking the dog's ears.

Toby drifted off to sleep as he accepted the gesture of affection. Holmes allowed him to nap for several minutes before announcing that he believed we needed to find some manner in which to relax our minds, for he theorized that as the body can become exhausted due to an excess of exercise, one's mind can become clouded by a surplus of concentration without respite. His proposed solution was to attend a performance by a professional orchestra.

"I observe that there is a good deal of German music on the program," he commented as we prepared to leave. "It is introspective, and I want to introspect!"

"But, Holmes, that music is so frightfully dull!" I argued, knowing already that my protests were to know avail.

"Come along."

Against my will, I accompanied him to the recital. He seemed enraptured by the music, and I sincerely hoped this would be enough to assist his cognitive process.

When we returned home, Toby was missing. He's usually a well behaved dog, but he has one rather peculiar quirk: At times, he disappears without warning and doesn't return until hours later. Holmes finds this habit quite galling.

"Have you any idea how exasperatingly ludicrous it is when a detective can locate any object in the empire except his own dog?!" he often exclaims impatiently.

"What of it?" I always respond. "It's a dog's nature to wander a bit. Besides, Toby always finds his way back to the flat eventually. It's not as if he's out solving cases without us."


	3. The Sign of More

**The Sign of More**

Holmes and I were finishing our breakfast the following morning when yet another visitor arrived at Baker Street. He was a lanky man of perhaps twenty-five years of age, and although he did not give the appearance of one severely impoverished, I did not believe him to possess any manner of substantial wealth. He fidgeted a great deal, as if he feared losing his livelihood.

"Am I accurate in my conjecture that you are a toymaker by trade?" Holmes queried.

"My shop was destroyed by thieves!" the man answered. "I lock my door carefully each night, but this morning I found the majority of the toys in my shop destroyed! The toy soldiers are missing their uniforms, several gears have disappeared from the mechanical toys, and there's a great deal of wreckage and broken items! I'm afraid I don't understand at all. No money from my cash register is missing. Why would anyone do such a thing?! I am not a wealthy man, nor am I the kind of gentleman who purposely makes enemies! I do nothing but make toys so children will have a reason to smile, and I'll be able to provide for my own family!"

Although he maintained perfect composure, I could tell Holmes was becoming rather perturbed by unusual robberies that failed to produce evidence indicating a specific perpetrator. However, he conducted a meticulous investigation of the toy shop.

"Observe, Doctor." He pressed a window pane, causing it to give way slightly. "Offhand, I can deduce very little, yet I do believe this may be an imperative clue."

Turning to the toymaker, Holmes gestured to a gaping hole in the roof. "Do take care. You'd not wish an infestation of bats. Should any decide to enter a building, removing them is an arduous task. On another matter, I suspect this to be the fiend's entry to your shop."

When he had finished inspecting the roof, Holmes began taking note of which areas of the shop had received the most damage. He muttered to himself as he observed every minute detail. Although I was unable to comprehend all he said, I heard enough that I was able to gather that he was almost certain there had been some manner of struggle. Perhaps the blackguard who demolished the shop had nearly been apprehended by a passing constable or thwarted by another criminal.

After giving the matter a great deal of thought, Holmes finally arrived at a conclusion.

"Dwelling among us is an adroit thief," he began. "This fiend has blatantly managed to discover a manner in which to rob others without opening doors or windows. Perhaps he uses some variety of machine to slip through the most diminutive entrances and seize what he wishes, yet it is more likely he steals from other thieves. What robber would report to the police, 'The items I have stolen are now missing!'?"

I nodded in silent agreement, for his deduction was quite logical.

"I fear this notorious scoundrel has ransacked your shop in an attempt to acquire materials necessary for his most recent scheme. No doubt he intends to build a most sinister device, though I can hardly imagine what crime he now plots; however, we shall be ready for him when he dares to strike next. Whoever this rogue may be, he is no less than one of the world's greatest criminal minds, the most cunning villain since Moriarty's time."

"You will find him, will you not, Mr. Holmes?!" the toymaker demanded. "This damage has cost me nearly a month's wages, and if I don't reopen my shop soon, I'll be out even more money!"

"I assure you this felon will indeed receive deserved comeuppance," Holmes promised.


	4. A Scandal Near Buckingham

**A Scandal Near Buckingham**

"Have you any previous engagements for the remainder of the evening, Watson?" Holmes set aside the newspaper he had been reading. "Some weeks ago, I received an invitation from my brother to attend our most gracious queen's ceremony this very night. I gave my word that I should be honored to attend had I no prior commitments, and as a dastardly fiend appears to be plotting a crime of the most sinister nature, I believe it would prove most sage were we to arrive at Buckingham Palace to ensure no harm should befall Her Majesty."

"I should be delighted to accompany you," I replied.

"Have you a suitable weapon? It is my most sincere hope there shall be no unpleasantness to disturb this evening's events, but we must arm ourselves against any potential menace."

When the hour had arrived, Holmes bade the dog farewell.

"We're off to Buckingham Palace, Toby," he explained. "Do remain here and guard the flat during our absence. Refrain from upsetting Mrs. Hudson by taking the liberty of dozing on the furniture, and above all, I do not wish you to wander throughout the neighborhood this evening. A nefarious robber, potentially a bloodthirsty assassin, is prowling about the vicinity, and I would not care for you to risk a confrontation with such a felon."

I nearly chuckled. "My dear Holmes, have you fallen ill? Being an animal, Toby is incapable of understanding human speech, let alone comprehending the ability to follow instructions."

"Although you speak with veracity, I can hardly elucidate what occurs when a man finds himself responsible for a dog's care," my companion answered. "He is fully aware the creature hasn't the slightest perception of conversational topics, yet there are times when, for no palpable reason, he finds himself speaking to the dog as if it were human. Perhaps it would become more clear to you if you were to become the primary caregiver of your own domestic animal."

I stroked Toby's head. "I don't imagine our flat needs any other residents. In addition to Mrs. Hudson and ourselves, we have Toby and that mouse you claim to have seen on numerous occasions. Furthermore, Mrs. Hudson has been considering inviting a cat to share our home."

Upon our arrival at Buckingham Palace, I was rather surprised to encounter Inspectors Lestrade and Gregson. Although Holmes exchanged pleasantries with them, it was blatant that he would have preferred to have spent the evening without their interference in such a bizarre case.

"Sherlock!"

Holmes frowned at first, unaccustomed to hearing others address him by forename. However, when he realized who had spoken, he managed a polite smile at the most welcome albeit unintentional interruption.

"Good evening to you, Mycroft. Might I have a word with you after the ceremonies this evening? I am most perplexed by the misdeeds of a certain felon, and your insight may prove most beneficial."

As Queen Victoria addressed her subjects to commemorate her years as our monarch, I attempted to observe the crowd. To my immense relief, not a soul caused any mischief, yet Holmes and I inspected the grounds of Buckingham Palace when the ceremonies had reached their conclusion.

"The flag is missing," I stated. "I also notice several of the decorations, especially a great number of balloons, have disappeared."

"No matter," Holmes commented imperturbably. "Is it not only fitting that a flag should be removed at night or during foul weather? I do sense an impending storm. As for the balloons, I suspect a few of Her Majesty's employees have taken the liberty of removing them to distribute to their children."

"I wonder what had the dogs so disconcerted. I heard a great din from the royal kennels."

"Before the rain demolishes any evidence, I should like to examine the area surrounding the kennels," he remarked.

This proved to be yet another disappointment. From the ruined shrubbery, Holmes deduced that the scoundrel that had disturbed the dogs was not a potential suspect.

"Indeed I doubt this tumult was caused by a human being," he concluded. "Perhaps the dogs noticed a feral cat or another harmless creature."

When we returned to Buckingham Palace, I became increasingly more baffled. Only minutes before Big Ben had pealed to announce it was two hours until midnight, the flag had been missing, yet I observed it plainly in its rightful place on the flagpole.


	5. A Study in Crimson

**A Study in Crimson**

To no one's surprise, Toby was out wandering the area surrounding Baker Street when we returned home. After we had watched him through our window for quite some time, he finally paused beside our porch, staring at something intently.

Holmes opened the door and whistled. "Toby!"

The dog refused to budge.

"_Toby!_" Holmes clasped the leash around the dog's collar. Although Toby resisted as long as he could, Holmes started dragging him.

The growl that began in the dog's throat bared his fangs by the time the noise escaped his lips. Toby snarled as he began pulling at the leash, no doubt having caught a scent on the breeze.

"Is some nefarious scoundrel lurking about in the alley?" Holmes asked, unfastening the dog's leash.

We followed as Toby raced down an alley and halted before what he had been pursuing, a cat that looked as if it had been eaten alive, perhaps by large dogs.

"What do you make of it, Watson?"

"It's merely an injured cat, Holmes. I fail to see any significance in the matter."

"Toby considers our feline acquaintance to be of utmost importance."

"Toby's a dog."

"Brilliant deduction, Watson!"

"Sarcasm does not become you, Holmes. I merely wished to emphasize that dogs frequently chase cats, and Toby's actions are hardly out of the ordinary."

"This cat intrigues me, Doctor. From her weight and the bow so adroitly balanced on the top of her head, one would assume she has been cosseted."

"I suppose she has been fed well, and she's certainly been pampered," I replied. "What's so unusual about…?"

"Why would devoted owners abandon their pet in an alley at this time of night? Furthermore, the scars on the pads of her paws indicate confrontations with a large rodent, perhaps on multiple occasions. You will also note how she trembles before us, as if she were apprehensive around humans, not to mention the brutal mauling she has blatantly received only recently." Holmes shook his head. "Most perplexing! I should like to have her as my guest for a few days and attempt to locate the owners. A real pity she won't survive the night!"

"She might have a chance," I responded. "If someone were to tend her wounds and look after her…By Jove, Holmes! Why are you looking at me in that manner?"

The investigator gingerly scooped up the dying cat.

"You can't be serious!" I protested. "This is merely a clever jocosity, is it not?"

"Come now. This surely must be a sign. I first observed this cat from my window, recalling that Mrs. Hudson had expressed interest in such a pet. When I noted that Toby had not yet come in for the evening, and I stepped outside to retrieve him, he also drew the cat to my attention. Indeed her situation is most bewildering."

The cat trembled as Holmes gently carried her inside the flat. Many of my acquaintances have often expressed their envy that I have the chance to be of assistance to Holmes on many thrilling adventures; however, there is nothing exhilarating about attempting to coax a frightened cat out from underneath a chair an hour before midnight.

"Do come out," I cajoled. "No one's here to harm you. I merely wish to have a look at your wounds and see what I can do to ease your discomfort."

When the cat's ears flattened, I expected her to hiss or attempt to scratch, but she did no such thing. She continued to tremble, acting as if she expected to be tortured but knew she would experience even greater suffering if she attempted to resist.

"Might I inquire…?" began Holmes.

"I set the cat on a cushion while I went to get my bag of medical supplies," I explained. "When I returned, I found her under this chair, and she refuses to move. As an animal, she lacks the abilities to comprehend English and reason logically, so I'm unable to persuade her that I mean her no harm."

Realizing I had no choice but to risk her claws, I carefully reached under the chair to remove the cat. Although I have never attributed thought patterns or emotions to animals, I shall never forget her gaze. The creature looked as if she both feared and despised me, her eyes pleading for mercy yet filling with hatred. However, she still refrained from attempting to scratch my wrist or free herself from my grasp.

In an effort to calm her a bit, I offered the cat a few scraps of food before I began tending the wounds. I continued to stroke her head gently and speak words of comfort as I worked. She remained motionless and silent until I began cleaning the blood from her muzzle.

Holmes frowned as he perceived the injured creature turn her head for the fourth time. "Were I not a man of science, Doctor, I would wager the blood near her mouth is that of a nemesis rather than her own. One might theorize that after a lifetime of maltreatment, she finally proved victorious over her foe, and it is for this reason she was forsaken in an alley. Her adversary is vanquished, yet she has no ally."

As if in answer to his jocose conclusion, the cat's tongue darted eagerly across her lips.

"I don't mind that you decided to find a cat for Mrs. Hudson," I began, "but would it not have been far more sagacious to purchase a kitten rather than taking in a wounded stray?"

"How fare her chances of survival?"

"Despite my finest effort, Holmes, I fear we discovered her too late to be of much service. She's extremely weak."

He nodded. "At least you were able to assuage her pain to an extent."

"She appears to be breathing a bit easier," I agreed, "but I do believe I should check her heart rate."

The cat pawed at the stethoscope, as if trying to push it away.

"No need to fret," I soothed, stroking the cat. "There now. You see? No harm done. You have a strong heart."

She lowered her head.

"Observe, Watson!" Holmes jested. "This cat has called herself heartless! First she resisted your attempts to examine her heart, and now she has denied your claim!"

"Is this the time for ludicrous banter?!" I demanded. "It's nearly midnight!"

"I could play the violin if you'd prefer."

"Then again, a little humor is always good for the soul."

Holmes rubbed his chin, appearing to be deep in thought. "I can only speculate what Mrs. Hudson shall name this creature."

"It's a cat," I reminded him. "It's not as if you can train it to do your bidding at the sound of a bell. No matter what she calls it, the cat will still come to 'Here, kitty!'"

My companion nodded.

I carefully placed the animal on a soft cushion near the fireplace. "I wish you a pleasant evening and a complete recovery."

Before I left the room, I observed the most extraordinary sight I had ever witnessed. Toby, who had always detested cats, lay beside the injured creature, as a human would keep vigil over a perishing friend. The cat gazed at him in a manner that seemed remorseful yet appreciative; however, the slightest trace of jubilant triumph still flashed across those glittering eyes.

It was high time I retired to my chamber for the evening. No doubt my fatigue was causing such preposterous tricks of the mind.


	6. From Alleys of Fear

**From Alleys of Fear**

Any hope I had of rest was interrupted far too early the following morning. I woke to the tumult of someone pounding on the door, begging Holmes to come outside at once.

Against my will, I answered the door. "What's the emergency?"

"There's something stuck in Big Ben!" the visitor replied. "It appears to be a miniature dirigible!"

"If this is your idea of a joke…"

"I give you my word as a gentleman; I am telling you nothing but absolute truth!"

Holmes and I followed him to the clock tower. We were astonished to find a small, metallic object lodged in one of the faces.

"This machine no doubt is the property of the very fiend who ransacked the toy store," Holmes began. "He no doubt had a crime of the most sinister nature planned for Her Majesty's Diamond Jubilee yesterday evening; however, his plot went awry due to unforeseen circumstances, and his contraption was demolished here. I shouldn't be surprised if this were the same scoundrel liable for the robberies. I dare say the villain's slipped this time, and I shall have him!"

Just as we stepped onto the porch leading to our flat, Toby came running to us. I suppose he slipped outside when we left to investigate the trouble with the clock tower, but we had been too preoccupied to notice him.

"Toby! Wherever have you been?!" Holmes exclaimed. "I see our visitor seems to have recovered."

I noticed the cat, who was limping badly, had survived the night and now refused to leave the dog's side. After we had all stepped inside the flat, the cat curled up in a corner as if she intended to nap.

"Mr. Holmes! Where have you been?" Mrs. Hudson called from the kitchen.

"Investigating a case, Mrs. Hudson," Holmes replied. "Why don't you step out of the kitchen a moment? I believe there's something worthy of your attention in the other room."

"Very well. Just let me finish the eggs first. It wouldn't do to have the two of you complaining about a late breakfast."

She seemed fond of the cat at once.

Mr. Holmes explained how he had found the creature in an alley. "She intrigues me. Her owners have fed her well and gone through the trouble of placing a bow in her hair, yet she has scars on the pads of her paws from confrontations with large rodents, not to mention she was abandoned and left for dead last night. I cannot help but wonder why such caring owners would subject their feline companion to such tortures. I thought perhaps she could be our houseguest until her owners are located and this matter is sorted out."

"And if no one ever claims her?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Then her fate is in your hands."

Mrs. Hudson scooped the cat into her arms. "Come now, kitty. Let's get you some breakfast." After a pause, she added, "You're shaking. Have you been mistreated? Is that why you're having trouble trusting me? Well, it's all over now. You'll see. Everything's going to be fine. From now on, you'll live among friends in the sort of home you deserve."

The cat still acted uncertain.

"It's going to be so nice having a cat! I can watch you play with yarn, and you can sit in my lap of an evening! A cat is a perfect companion, quiet and independent but still affectionate! Exactly what I've been needing! I'm sure you'll be happy here!" Mrs. Hudson continued.

She cared for her feline companion as if it was the most natural idea in the world for a feral cat to become involved in her life. Although justly proud of her superior housekeeping skills, Mrs. Hudson never once complained when the cat accidentally spilled milk on the carpet. She merely set down another bowl of milk mixed with cream for her new pet, using affectionate words and holding the cat when it had finished the milk.


	7. The Final Solution

**The Final Solution**

Not a full week after Mrs. Hudson's cat arrived at Baker Street, Holmes and I were walking Toby. The dog enjoyed casual outings nearly as much as he seemed to take pleasure in assisting us with cases. However, this particular stroll had a most remarkable foible: the cat insisted on accompanying us.

We had left the cat in Mrs. Hudson's company, yet it had slipped through the pet door. No matter where we led Toby, the cat followed, almost as if she were determined not to allow the dog to leave her sight.

As we neared one particular alley, the cat hissed. I was taken aback, for I had never known her to act upon hostile feelings. She began approaching a discarded wooden barrel with a purposeful stealth, as if demonstrating her hunting prowess.

Never one to miss an opportunity to investigate, Holmes knelt and stared into the barrel. "It's a regular rat's nest!" He rose and tilted it, causing numerous gems and other costly objects to fall onto the street. "Indeed a clever cache for a robber! Who would think to examine an ostensibly empty barrel in an alley? Watson, old chap, we have located the missing possessions, many of which were either stolen with assistance of diminutive machines or taken from other thieves, thus the mysterious nature of their disappearance."

Mrs. Hudson's cat gave the appearance of one unimpressed, as if Holmes had solved half the case and erred in the remainder of his conclusions. However, I dismissed such an absurd notion, for animals neither comprehend speech nor grasp the concept of logic.

"Do you recall the gentleman we questioned not yet a complete fortnight past?"

I nodded. "What of him, Holmes?"

"His home contained several bottles of the same variety of liquor found in such barrels! My suspicions are confirmed; this man is none other than the notorious thief responsible for this succession of peculiar robberies! He had the accurate notion that gems concealed in a wooden barrel in a secluded alleyway were highly unlikely to be discovered. Come now, Watson. We simply must pay him a call."

After taking the barrel and its contents to Baker Street for safekeeping, we were on our way to visit our acquaintance. When we arrived at the gentleman's home, he appeared rather vexed.

"What do the two of you want now?!" he demanded brusquely.

"Merely to return your cat," Holmes responded nonchalantly. "I know it must be yours, for her paws greatly resemble the walls in this very room." He gestured slightly to the rodent claw marks along one of the walls.

"It's as I told you before!" the man argued. "I no longer own a cat!"

"Oh? I suppose you don't own any gems either." Holmes picked up Mrs. Hudson's cat. "The runt kitten you abandoned years ago has unwittingly solved the case. I'm fully aware of the wooden barrel you used to hide your stolen goods, and I've discovered the miniature contraptions you built in order to accomplish your misdeeds without forcing open windows or breaking locks. You were most clever not to have left any footprints."

"That's the most preposterous lie I've ever heard!" the man protested. "Why would I purposely keep gems in an alley where any other thief could get them after I worked so hard planning out the robberies?! I kept everything I stole in my attic, and those appalling mice carried it all into their nest!" He immediately placed a hand over his mouth in regret for his outburst, but it was too late; the confession had been stated.

Trying to keep the amused sparkle from his eyes, Holmes set the cat on the floor. "Find these mice of which this gentlemen speaks."

Mrs. Hudson's cat gave him a vacant stare.

"She can't search for anything on command as Toby does," I remarked. "Cats aren't easily trained."

"Although you speak with veracity, my dear Watson," Holmes answered, "I have no doubt she may prove her worth on this case."

The cat sniffed at the small gaps in the walls.

"She's got the scent!" the detective exclaimed triumphantly. "I do believe Toby may have gained an assistant!"

I failed to comprehend how allowing the cat to dispose of a few rodents would provide evidence supporting the case, but Holmes seemed confident. After stealthily searching the room, the cat began slipping toward the attic, followed by Toby. To avoid giving unintentional warning to their quarry, we remained in the lower rooms of the house for several minutes before going upstairs. The cat had not found any rodents, but she and the dog had discovered several bits of oddly shaped metal near a certain mouse hole.

"Here is evidence that he used the diminutive machines, as I had previously theorized," Holmes concluded joyfully.

"I know nothing of these machines!" the man argued. "Those metal pieces weren't here earlier!"

My companion raised his eyebrows slightly. "Do you expect me to believe these creatures are attempting to frame you?"

Having escorted the gentleman to the police station, we returned to Baker Street. Following his trial, we were able to return the stolen items to their rightful owners.

From that time on, Mrs. Hudson's cat and Toby were a close team, and over the years, they assisted in many cases together, but I shall always look back on her first with the most astonishment; my introduction to the once battered on Baker Street, the great mouse detector.


End file.
